Rivalry
by Zero.Elektronik
Summary: The problem between the two, was Christophe. Hints of Christophe/Gregory and Christophe/Kyle. Done for the 100 theme challenge


**Done for the 100 theme challenge.**

**Warning: Hints of slash.**

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Though the two worked together, Boss and Hacker, they never got on, though tried their hardest to keep their personal feelings out of their work. Everyone in South Park thought Gregory and Christophe had something going on, which they did, Sort of. The frequent one night stands which the Blond later regret feeling so used were the usual. However, Kyle would get his fair share of nights with the mercenary too. The problem between the two was that they both had feelings for Christophe - and whilst he didn't return them to either of them, the two were jealous of each other. They were rivals in something that wasn't even worth competing for. This made working together difficult. The two of them weren't close when Kyle first took up the job - Gregory had stolen Wendy off Kyle's best friend when they were younger - but it got more complicated once the cocky, egotistical Frenchman entered the scene.

Gregory and Kyle were sitting in some shady little bar where the music was too loud and the room was too dark, the sign on the front was so faded that the name of the place was unknown to people who didn't go there. The two sat opposite some other around a small, stained table - Gregory sitting with his tea, giving disgusted looks to the drunks, and Kyle fidgeting with his hands and avoiding looking at the blond. It was awkward and unavoidable, they knew one of them would have to break the silence between them eventually - Christophe never liked showing up on time unless he was actually working. The glowing lights from the bar lit up the dark table, and with a long, deep breathe; Kyle's voice intruded the silence.

"I know things between us aren't…well, pleasant to say the least, but I'd like it if for work purposes, of course, if we could try and get on."

"You know that won't work, dude."

"There is no harm in trying though, no? Christophe would be pleased."

"'tophe doesn't give a damn."

"He likes to show so, but he'd like it better than having to listen to us argue and bicker to each other."

"But it's fun to annoy him."

"Quite true, though he gets agitated so easily, no?"

"Yeah. He always scrunches up his face when he gets annoyed - It's kinda cute, pisses him off more if I tell him that, though."

"He get's so angry when you call him cute! Oh, and have you ever had him talking to you, and he'll start talking about something , I don't know - dirt, shovels, weapons - and he'll start talking really fast and you have no idea what he's on about, especially in his accent?"

"Yeah, and then you're like '...What?' and he looks at you like you're a complete idiot?"

"Oh, all the time. Especially when he's angry or tired and as he's talking he'll just start slipping into French halfway through a conversation and he doesn't notice?"

"It annoys me so damn much when he does that. And it's so funny how he gets all annoyed when you insult his fucking eyebrows."

"Oh, tell me about it. Does he always blame you for things that are clearly his fault?"

"All the time, dude, all the time. And then he talks to you like you're dirt?"

"Not dirt, more like a clean bath - you know how he loves the dirt."

"Hah, Totally."

Before they knew it, Gregory and Kyle had found common ground for them to communicate over - Christophe. They sat in the dingy bar, drinks in hand, mocking the Frenchman. From the way he'd talk in his bad French accent, even though he'd lived in South Park most of his life to the way he'd happily sit and insult your mother for hours - yet threaten you and sulk if you said the same to him. They talked about the way his nose was not nearly enough bent for the amount of times it had been broken, and how he'd always sulk and bitch whenever one of them had to take a bullet, or glass, or metal out of his wounds.

"And have you seen how protective he is over his shovel?"

"Oh, I know! I picked it up once and he threw boiling coffee at me - how bloody rude!"

"I know, right? I'm like; do you two wanna be left alone or something? He's like," Kyle looked up - noticing the doors swing open and the light from outside illuminating the outline of a tall, muscular man which on closer inspection turned out to be a dirty, blood-stained mercenary, "you know, acting as if it's his first love or something." The Mercenary approached the table, thick eyebrow raised at their interacting, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips - on seeing him, however, the two boys both burst into laughter. Christophe looked at the two nervously, not even caring to take the cigarette from his mouth, breathing out smoke in the dim room,

"…What? What eez eet? What are you beetches laughing about?"

"Haha, Beaches. Like, with sand and stuff, 'tophe?"

"Oh Kyle, He can't help that he talks like an idiot - he is French, after all, and they're all idiots."

"Oh, of course Dude, of course."

The Frenchman stood with a look of horror and disgust on his dirty, scarred face,

"You two are…getting on? Ze fuck?" He turned around, ignoring the laughter from his co-worker and boss and heading to the bar, glancing upwards to the ceiling, "God, you fucking faggot, why ze fuck do you 'ate me so much?"

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End file.
